If Only You Knew

3 - Frederick

February 17th 1875 - Whitehall Manor, Northern England

My brother survived through our deaths. However, he never walked again. The bullet that was lodged into his leg did irreparable damage to the bone and tissue, making him physically immobile for the rest of his life. His new wife, Charlotte, would wheel him around in a chair designed for those who could not move about on their own.

They had been married in the December following our accident, a measly turn out, with only Charlotte's family present. That was hard for Freddy, but he hid it as best as he could.

I think he knew I was there.

As Charlotte had glided down the aisle in our back garden, donned in a huge white gown, her hair in short red curls around her head, Freddy had put on his strongest smile and watched his stunning bride.

Right now he sat in his study, staring at the hard wood of his desk as he tapped a pen on the edge of the wood. I believe he was writing another letter to some of our relatives, but I couldn't be sure. I was perched on an armchair across the other side of the room, simply watching him.

A moment later Charlotte walked in, hand on her slightly swollen belly which was carrying the heir of Whitehall manor and the future of my family and my bloodline. She brushed her orange curls behind her ear and went to stand beside Frederick, reading over his shoulder and she placed a small hand on his shoulder.

He leant his head to her hand and kissed it lightly before returning his attention to his letter.

"Who are you writing to?" Her voice had always been quiet, but now it was even more so.

"Jonathan, Alice's suitor, he is wondering how I am going in my new marriage," Freddy spoke with almost no emotion nowadays, except when he spoke to his horses, which he would never ride again.

But that name, Jonathan, brought the reality crashing around me. I'd seen him at the funeral, the love of my mortal life came crashing through the front door of our home before hand, screaming my name. I'd stood next to him, watching everything unravel in front of us.

The servants had all panicked and fled as Frederick had wheeled himself into the room, then stood weakly, his bad leg shaking a little.

"Jonathan, please calm down," my brother practically begged him as Jonathan cried in anger, screaming my name once more.

"Why did it happen to her, Frederick? Why were you attacked?" His voice shook slightly and he spoke quietly, like a man giving into the sadness instead of lashing out in anger.

I snap out of my memories as Freddy turns to look up at his wife and places a protective hand over his unborn child. Charlotte and Frederick were perfect for each other to be honest, they always had been.

She cared for him like Scarlette and I never had the chance to. And he cared for and loved her like Scarlette and I never would be. And somehow, I think that was everything.

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September 27th, 1875 - Whitehall Manor, Northern England

Charlotte and Frederick's first son lay bundled in clothes at the foot of their bed as Charlotte was cleaning herself up, after cleaning her child and drying him, laying him to sleep on her bed.

He didn't stay asleep for long. I stood over him as huge, round, bright blue eyes stared up at me from my nephew. He could see me as I smiled down at him. Apparently children could see ghosts.

The heir of Whitehall's tiny hands peeked out from his blankets, pudgy little fingers stretching into the warm air of the room. I reached down and brushed them gently with mine, and he shivered slightly.

Charlotte walked back in, wheeling Freddy, in a long flowing white gown and picked up her son, then sat on the edge of the bed, and Frederick shifted out of his chair to sit next to her.

She stared down at her son with complete awe and adoration, Frederick next to her matched her expression. A quick goodbye was said to the midwives by both of them as the older women walked out and their attention was returned to their child.

"Charles William Whitehall," Freddy's voice was in complete awe of his child as he stared down at him with the softest gaze.

Charles yawned slightly, tiny lips spreading in a small O as his big blue eyes shut, as if he was responding to his name.

Charles would be the first of his generation, followed by several brothers and sisters. Matthew, Alice, Scarlette, Jonathan, Andrew and Victoria. I watched them grow up and create their own families before meeting them on the other side to guide them back to their father.

But right now he met my gaze again, staring intently at me as his mother stared at him and his father followed his gaze, and smiled slightly, as if he knew I was there again.

"Hello, Alice," his voice was barely more than a whisper, by Charlotte heard him.

"Is she here?" Her eyes focused on her husband's face before following his gaze to meet mine.

I smile a little and reveal myself, "Hello Freddy, Charlotte, Charles."

"Oh my," Charlotte puts a hand to her heart and her expression is shocked as she looks at me.

"Good to see you, Alice," Freddy seems nervous and confused. "But, how are you here? I watched you die."

"Lettie cast a spell," their expressions calm and so I continue. I explain everything to them, how I was to become human again, about the soulmate and the spellcaster sister.

And the entire time Charles just smiles and watches me, his eyes tired with sleep and his fingers gripping the blankets as tightly as his small muscles will allow.

The future of Whitehall is secured in this little boy and I know he will do the right thing by our family.